The Reactions of Many
by xSadistxFujix
Summary: Everyone thought they were just two normal boys, but they weren't. Andre said it himself though; who would want to think that their friend, son, or peer would ever do something so horrible like killing their classmates? They sure didn't. Reaction!fic
1. Chris Kriegman

**A/N:** This is going to be a short multi-chaptered story of people's reactions to Zero Day, mainly Chris, the Kriegmans, the Gabriels, and Rachel. So probably around 4 or 5 chapters... this is the first chapter. I chose Chris as Cal and Andre left them a note. Also, seeing as how there was never a name of the school, I just chose a name at random. Forgive my crappy place-naming skills. I'm great at naming characters; places, not so much.

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><p><strong>May 1<strong>**st****, 2001  
>10:06 AM<br>**

Chris yawned as he walked back into his room, scratching at the back of his neck. He looked around, trying to figure out if anything was out of place. Something felt a little bit… off.

He was nearly certain it was probably nothing at all, but these feelings just didn't come out of nowhere. Then again, maybe it was like "de-ja-vu". Chris always had the feeling of de-ja-vu but it never amounted to anything. Yet, the feeling he had at the moment wasn't _anything _like de-ja-vu, but at the same time, he didn't know what it was like.

The man sighed, sitting back on his bed. It felt like things had been moved. Probably nothing big, and it didn't seem like anything had been stolen… but Chris just couldn't shake off this feeling.

Looking around, Chris frowned as he saw a piece of paper placed purposefully atop some books that he didn't remember putting there. Standing up he walked over and picked the paper up. As he read, he could feel his stomach tighten; a bad feeling settling in the pit of it.

_Chris, sorry we took your guns. We needed them for our movie. Have fun at yo mamma's._

There was no signature, but Chris didn't need to see one to know who had written it. Andre and Calvin… a movie? What movie could they possibly be making that included real guns and—

Chris dropped the paper and threw his door open. Reaching up, he grabbed the key for his gun closet door. Quickly, he shakily unlocked the door, grabbing the other key for the cupboard where he kept them.

He could swear his heart stopped as he stared into the cupboard. Only one gun remained—the gun he had removed the indicator on. "Shit… fuck!" Chris opened the drawers before taking a few steps back.

Everything was gone. His bullets, clips, his fucking _guns _were all gone. Didn't Andre and Calvin get how fucking _dangerous _guns were? What were they going to do with them? What "movie" was this?

A crazy thought came to the front of his mind but he shook that away, feeling a bit guilty for thinking of his cousin and cousin's friend like that. There was no way they would do anything like _that_… right? That question had been purely hypothetical.

Chris leaned back against the door frame, staring at the empty place where his guns should be.

Yet… _"What do you think would be the best gun to actually kill somebody with?" _The question Calvin had asked had been so serious and both he and Andre had looked very curious about his response. He had thought it was a strange question at the time, but had decided to think nothing of it. Obviously it was probably just a question by two teenagers—teenagers liked guns. Andre had been raised learning how to hunt, he knew that, and Calvin was a _natural_ with it.

Locking his closet back up, he walked out into the living area of the house. He would just call Andre's parents. Chris didn't want to get him and Calvin into trouble, but obviously they didn't get just how _dangerous _it was to be going around with a loaded gun. Plus, they had _stole _them.

If the two of them really were using it for a "movie" (probably a school video), they could have just asked and he would have let them borrow them _under supervision_ of course.

Grabbing his phone, he dialed his uncle's house, bringing the phone up to his ear, listening to it ring. Only a moment later—something which shocked him slightly—the phone was answered and the sound of his aunt's panicked voice greeted him.

"Ch-Chris! Have you seen the news?" Johanne Kriegman seemed to force out, and Chris' brows furrowed.

"No… what's going on? Did something happen?"

"T-turn on the news! Quickly!"

He grabbed the remote with his free hand, turning the TV on and quickly pushing in the channel numbers for the local news. A picture of Andre's and Calvin's high school met him and slowly he lowered himself onto the couch, feeling as if he would vomit at any moment.

"—ports of any fatalities just yet. If you are just joining us on this Tuesday morning, we have gotten 911 calls of a shooting at Tielson High School." Chris was barely holding the phone up to his ear, barely taking in what the reporter was saying.

Shooting? Guns? What was this? It couldn't be what he thought… they wouldn't _do _that. It was probably just a coincidence.

"So far, there have been six kids taken to hospitals for serious injuries. Other minor ones have begun being attended to at close by houses. We know this is difficult, but the police ask that people stay _away _from Tielson High School and to please go to the public library to find out if your child has been accounted for.

"There are still a lot of kids trapped inside of the school at the moment, and the SWAT team are trying their best to get to them. It's been affirmed that there are two gunmen. Their names are not yet known—"

The reporter went on but Chris wasn't taking any more of it in. Two gunmen? That just about set it in stone, didn't it? His phone dropped to his side on the couch. Andre and Calvin had been the ones to ask to go shooting with him. They had happily helped take them out and put them back. They had known where the keys were.

They had asked which gun would be the best to kill somebody with.

Chris' eyes closed tightly, jaw clenching. He knew what all these things were adding up to, but he didn't want to think them. To think that would be betraying his cousin but… what else could he think?

"FUCK!" he screamed, kicking at the coffee table. "Shit…" He felt like he was being torn apart between realism and idiotic optimism. How could it be that his cousin could do something? Andre had always been a good kid… he had fun hanging out with him but now this?

There was no way Andre would do something like this. He just couldn't accept it.

Yet Chris didn't see how he could accept anything _other _than that.


	2. Rachel Lurie

**A/N:** Because I am a horrible horrible person, I placed Rachel in a section of the library close enough to LIB 6 so that she can hear everything going on but not see it. Ah well. I may actually do a couple more chapters after this once I get the reveal part done... a bit later, maybe a couple of days where they have a bit of a clearer mind and can you know... think a bit more clearly about this.

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><p><strong>May 1<strong>**st****, 2001  
>10:03 AM<strong>

She didn't know what was happening. One moment Rachel was studying for a test in the library and the next thing she knew there was screaming and people running in every direction. Her natural instinct was to also run but she couldn't move. Quickly she abandoned her books and huddled beneath a table behind some bookshelves with a couple of other people, trying to quiet their breathing.

"What… what's happening?" she quietly asked one of the guys next to her, holding her legs tightly to her chest.

The guy looked hesitant to speak but quickly and just as quietly answered, "Two guys… guns…"

Rachel could feel her eyes widen, fingers clenching into her jeans. There were people with guns inside the school at that very moment? Why would they come to their school and attack them? What had any of them ever done wrong?

Her breathing picked up slightly but she bit hard on her lip to keep herself silent, footsteps on the other side of the bookshelves walking past. They seemed slow, unlike a scared student who would probably be running as their lives definitely depended on it. Were they the footsteps of the shooters?

Was she going to die today?

She let out a small breath as they just continued walking past, not thinking—or caring—to check behind the shelves to see if there were people hiding there. Her relief was short lived, however, when she realized people had ran past to hide in the next section of the library; right where the two gunmen were headed.

"Hey everybody!" a voice yelled in the slight distance and she felt something familiar shoot down her spine. She recognized that voice from somewhere.

Her fingers tightened around her legs.

"Hi," another voice—also somewhat familiar, but less so—said a bit quieter. It was horrifying to her that she recognized these voices. Were they _students_? At first she had thought it would likely be two crazy adults who just decided to shoot up a school, but were these actual _students _of her school?

Did she recognize because she had classes with them? Did she ever talk to these people? All of these thoughts were racing through Rachel's head and she just didn't know what to think about them, what to _do _about them.

Could she even do anything about them?

There were screams from a girl and Rachel mentally begged her to be quiet. She understood, but yelling would only anger them probably. She didn't want anyone to get hurt… she could only pray that no one yet had been hurt.

"That's funny," one of the voices said and disgust filled her to the brim. What was funny? The screaming? Who were these horrible people?

Rachel buried her face in her knees, trying to keep her emotions in check, _trying _to stay calm.

There was ruffling and the sounds of chairs being pushed away. The screaming got louder, blocking out any chance to hear what the gunmen were saying. Not that she really wanted to, but she didn't want to listen to people screaming in fear either; it only enhanced her fear that she may not leave the school alive.

"How are 'ya? Oh cool!" She flinched, covering her ears as there were gunshots from the section just across from her, tears finally starting to roll down her cheeks. A boy came running close only for more gunshots to follow. The boy fell to the ground, blood pouring from her body.

Rachel covered her mouth, turning away.

Laughter. She could hear laughter. These disgusting _freaks_ were laughing about killing somebody. They were enjoying this. How could somebody enjoy this?

Another scream. "Shut up!" a shiver went down her spine. She shook her head quickly. _No_.

Footsteps came closer, and she couldn't help a glance. She stiffened as she saw two pairs of legs, both wearing black baggy pants. She was slightly thankful that she couldn't see their faces. Rachel feared what she would discover should she see who they were.

"Dude! What are you doing?" screams continued to echo through the library, guns firing off at someone who she thought might be trying to run. She wanted to run. She wanted to get out of there, but she knew should she move, it might be her final moves.

But she also knew that if she stayed, she might die there.

"Hi, how are ya?" That voice said again, and it sounded so strikingly familiar, and she knew why it sounded familiar, but she didn't want to believe it. If that was _his _voice then the other person… she just couldn't accept that.

"Oh my god!" a girl screamed, crying in fear.

"Oh my god! Oh my god!" the male mocked, and she covered a mouth. It was getting harder and harder to deny. She could hear the voice almost so clearly as if it was right next to her, but _why_?

"Go away!"

"Oh, go away?" the voice laughed loudly and Rachel pushed her hands to her ears, not wanting to hear anymore.

"Leave me alone! No! No_ please_!"

"Look at the blood! Jesus!" Rachel bit her lip, holding in a small sob. No, no, _no_! She wanted to deny it. She didn't want it to be him! It couldn't be him… how could he _do _something like this? That wasn't his voice, her _friend's _voice. It couldn't be him!

The girl continued to scream, yet the teen's voice was just something she couldn't seem to block out. "Is the gun pointed at you?" _That _same voice asked. _His _voice.

Calvin's voice.

"No… what're you doing?"

"Shut up," yet another scream. "What? What? ARE YOU DEAD YET?"

Rachel couldn't hold back the next sob and she vaguely felt an arm wrap around her. She kept her crying silent, turning into the person's chest. "W-why…?" she asked, knowing she wouldn't get an answer.

"No, you're still alive, aren't you?" The voice she knew as Calvin's stated, his voice so much crueler than she had ever heard before and something came back to her; something they had joked about so many months before.

_"Unless you have some sort of evil locked inside that I've never seen before, its Andre."_

_ "Oh, I lock it inside. Nobody sees it—I keep it from everyone."_

Had Calvin been serious? At the time she had thought they been joking, but had he actually told her that he had… evil lockedinside of him? Darkness that nobody but he and Andre knew about? Why hadn't he told her his thoughts? They were friends. She could have _helped _him.

Unless Calvin hadn't _wanted _help. How long had her friend been feeling like this? She had known him for around five years. Why had he not trusted her to come to with this?

"Shut up! _SHUT UP!_" Calvin yelled at the screaming girl and Rachel clenched her eyes shut. She didn't want to hear anymore, she didn't want to see anymore. She wanted out of here.

She could hear quiet words, pleading at Calvin and Andre to stop and Rachel could agree with that sentiment.

"What?" Calvin asked sharply, and she recognized it as disbelief. Rachel couldn't believe the way her friend—was he still her friend? Was _she _still _his _friend?—was speaking to these kids. Even still… she would have expected Andre to be acting like… that. Except it was Calvin. Calvin was the one taunting them. He was being the most vocal.

Why? What had happened to her friend for him to turn out this way? Did she ever really know him at all?

"You're still alive. _Stop? _You want me to _stop? _You want me to stop right now? SHUT UP! Look at her. Look at her right there." _Her_? Who was her? One of Calvin's… victims? "_SHUT UP_!" the sound of rapid fire went off and she let out another small sob, trying to hold herself back.

She was scared, disgusted. How could anyone do something like this? Especially someone so sweet as _Calvin_? Even Andre… he had always seemed violent and angry, and it was less of a stretch for her to believe it, but he still took it so far as to kill people for no reason? To kill their _classmates_?

Rachel felt like she had taken a trip to the Twilight Zone. That must have been it because there was no way this could be real life.

Someone ran past and there was quiet discussion between Andre and Cal. Rachel wished she could stop listening to them.

"Cal, look, its Greg! Greg sit down! Relax,"

"Please don't hurt me, sir!"

"Sir!" Andre laughed. "I like that."

"He called you sir." Calvin chuckled and Rachel felt bile rise up in her throat. How could they laugh at someone's _fear_?

"Please don't shoot me!"

"I can't kill you, you're too pathetic. You're gonna live today man, you're gonna live." Rachel let out a small breath of relief. Thank god for that at least.

Next thing she knew there were shots and the arms tightened around her. He said though… they killed him anyway? Who were these people? Who was this person she used to call her friend?

Why did everything seem to want to move so slowly?

"This gun sucks." Calvin stated. Rachel's fingers clutched at her pants.

"Looks fine to me. Did the job." _Did the job? _"Hey! Look, it's another guy behind the couch! You're not gonna say anything? Nothing? Not no 'oh please help me!'?" More rapid fire gunshots. She was starting to get used to the sound.

Rachel didn't like that.

"Hey! STOP!"

"FUCK YOU!"

"…'Fuck you'." Both Andre and Calvin started laughing. Rachel couldn't figure out what was so funny. "He came back for his bag! He totally came back for his fucking bag."

"Why would he go back for his bag?"

"Probably had like weed in there or something. Figured if he gets out he's not getting in trouble." She heard footsteps walking away from the library but all Rachel could do was sit there, even as police sirens sounded in the distance.

What was this? A nightmare? It had to be some nightmare that she couldn't get out of.

Rachel felt herself pulled up and nearly dragged towards a secondary exit of the library, but she could barely pay attention to any of that. Her best friend… he was a murderer?

It didn't make sense, but she knew it was the truth. Still though, how could this truth be real? How could it be fact? Her friend—Calvin Gabriel—a murderer? A killer? Those words just didn't fit in with the image of the boy she knew.

At least, she had thought she had known him. Obviously that image had all fallen to pieces. Rachel didn't know what to think anymore.


	3. The Kriegmans

Johanne Kriegman's hands were clenched tightly around her phone as she stared at the clock. Her husband was sitting in his chair; no longer having the energy to pace, having worn himself out over the hours he had been doing so.

They were just waiting for a call, hopefully from their son Andre, but they would take anyone calling them as long as it was to tell them that it was good news. Their son was alive and okay… although he would probably be injured. It was past nine PM and if he was alive, he would already be home by then.

"He's going to be okay, Johanne." Gerhard tried comfort her, but they both knew it wouldn't work. The only thing that would comfort either of them would be to have their son back home and safe—better yet; for them to wake up and this would've all been some horrible nightmare.

The only sound in the dark living area of their house was the ticking of the large clock on the wall. It was deathly silent, and Johanne could feel her heart racing inside of her chest.

Johanne jumped slightly as a knock came at the door. Dropping the phone, she hurried to the door, her husband behind her. Tossing the door open, she looked at the two policemen on her doorstep, heart dropping.

"Our son…" she began thickly, her husband squeezing her shoulder. "Andre… is Andre okay? Where is Andre?" Gerhard wrapped an arm around his wife's shoulders, pulling her closer to his chest.

The policemen glanced at each other before they turned back to the two parents. "I'm sorry ma'am, sir but… may the two of us come in? There are a few things we need to talk to you about."

"Of… of course you may." Gerhard forced out, stepping back to let the two men inside of his home. "Just please… tell us if our son is alive or if he's…" his voice trailed off. He couldn't finish that sentence, but that was alright; they all already knew what he was going to say.

"I'm officer Tori and this is my partner officer Hendricks." The slightly older of the two told them once the door was closed and they were lead to the dining area and allowed to be seated. "We are deeply sorry for disturbing you but as you know something happened today that will forever haunt us and it just so happens that we have some news to tell you."

"N-news?" Johanne asked, gripping her husband's hand tightly.

"About… about your son, Mrs. Kriegman." Officer Hendricks stated, looking distinctly uncomfortable. This filled both of the Kriegmans with a sick, horrible feeling.

"Andre?" Gerhard asked, leaning forward a bit. "What about Andre? What do you both have to tell us?" Their hands tightened around each other a bit more as they waited for the answer to come.

There was silence as the two officers looked at each other, deciding who would tell the Kreigmans of their son's fate. Finally, Officer Tori took in a breath, steadying himself. "I am horribly sorry to tell you that your son Andre is dead and—"

Johanne let out a sob, tears flowing down her face as she felt her heart get ripped out of her. It hurt _so much_. She could feel the pain tearing at her, clawing at her. How could her son be _dead_? Her only son? The son she had given birth to and had raised for eighteen years? How could he be… gone?

Gerhard let out a pained sound as well, pulling his wife to his chest, the both of them freely letting themselves cry. They couldn't help it. Their son was dead. That's what the police were saying, but they still couldn't bring themselves to fully _believe _that.

Why would anybody hurt Andre, that sweet child? How could somebody hurt all of those kids?

"I'm sorry for your loss but… there is more." One of the officers told them. Johanne looked up, her vision blurred from behind her tears.

"M-more? What else could you _possibly _have to tell us other than our _son is dead_?" She knew it wasn't their fault, but she didn't care. She just wanted her son back.

"Is it important?" Gerhard asked, trying to get a hold of himself, but not quite succeeding completely.

Officer Tori nodded. "Yes… it's very important. It is also something that you may not believe but it has to do with the way your son died."

"We know how our son died!" Johanne cried out, not bothering to wipe the tears from her face. "He was killed… murdered by some sick person. Why must you drag this out? We don't need the gory details."

The man swallowed slightly. "Mrs. Kriegman… your son died from a self-inflicted gunshot wound." All at once, everything seemed to stop. The air stilled, their hearts clenched tightly.

"Self… self-inflicted?" Gerhard forced out, hand clenching around Johanna's. "What does that mean? What do you mean he died from a… self-inflicted wound? That doesn't make sense. He would need a gun to do that."

"We found your son and another boy strapped with multiple guns. There were bags with their IDs and there were also pipe bombs inside of the bags—as well as multiple knives. It seems your son Andre was one of the gunmen. The parents of the other gunmen are being informed as we speak as well." Officer Tori explained to them but neither of them were taking it in.

Andre was a murderer? This didn't click in their minds. There was no way that was possible. These policemen obviously had the wrong boy because there was no way _their _son would do something like that. To kill another person… Andre wouldn't do that. He was a sweet kid, always talking about his future.

"Y-you have the wrong person." Johanne cried. "Andre wouldn't do something like that… he was a good kid! Please tell us this is some cruel joke or you have the wrong person. You have to have the wrong person!"

"I'm sorry ma'am," Officer Tori continued. "But there is no mistake. Your son Andre was one of the two gunmen."


	4. The Gabriels

**A/N:** If you couldn't tell, I'm quite in love with Calvin, but there's just so much there... eventually I'll do more with Andre and his family as well, but Calvin is my favorite between the two. I do know of one story/drabble piece I will be doing for Andre though. Maybe I'll write it tomorrow. Not that anyone cares, haha. Oh and this is the final chapter, but I will be doing a sequel/part 2. ^_^

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><p><strong>May 1<strong>**st****, 2001  
>10:57 PM<strong>

They had been sitting there for nearly an hour after the news had been broken to them. The two of them couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't _believe _what the officers had told them. It hurt knowing that their son wouldn't ever be walking through those doors again—and Pam desperately wished that she would wake up and see him walk towards her and her husband—but what hurt the most was knowing _why_.

Calvin had always been a sweet child, the sweetest child they had ever known. He had always been quiet and a bit shy, but when he smiled it was like the world just lit up with him. That boy had been Pam and Steve's first child and he would always hold that special place in their hearts but along with their love for him there was now confusion.

Had those officers been telling the truth? Neither of them wanted them to have been telling the truth, but a part of Pam just couldn't deny it because why would they _lie _about something like that?

Their son was dead and… he had killed himself after killing twelve others?

That didn't compute in their minds and in their hearts, not even a little bit.

"What… what are we going to tell Eric and Madelyn?" Steve asked his wife, voice quiet as he leaned back in the seat next to her. He was staring straight ahead, mind racing a thousand miles a minute.

"We can't tell them what those police officers said until… until we know for sure. W-we'll break the news that he…" Pam covered her mouth with her hand, not even the feel of her husband's arm softly wrapping around her being a comfort. "B-but we can_not _say that to them."

"They'll learn eventually, Pam." Steve replied softly, not really disagreeing with her words though.

"I know but… they couldn't possibly understand it, Steve. At least until… until they're old enough. W-we can say that Calvin, that he…" Pam let out another cry, holding her head in his hands. "How could they both… how could they do something like this, Steve? Didn't we raise Calvin to be a good person? Where on earth did we go wrong?"

Steve swallowed tightly, wiping at his own face, shaking slightly. "I-I don't know, but the Kriegmans… they're probably feeling exactly like we are. People will be pointing fingers at all of us enough as it is, so let's promise not to blame Andre or his parents, alright?"

Pam gave a few small nods, agreeing with her husband's statement. "I don't blame them. Andre seemed like such a good boy too. Calvin was always so happy to have a friend in him. There was nothing… no hints or anything that something was wrong with either of them."

"Yeah…" Steve stared down at the table in front of him, not wanting to speak anymore.

Both of them fell silent, the ticking of the clock the only sound between them. Every so often, the green numbers on the microwave in the kitchen changed, but neither of them said anything.

Finally, Pam stood up and walked out of the room. Everything felt weird, different as she walked through the halls of her house and into her eldest son's room. Looking around, she saw how empty it was. She frowned. Where was all of his things? His posters, books, games, and CDs/DVDs?

Calvin didn't like it when she entered his room without his permission and so had taken up to cleaning his own room in the last couple of years as well as doing his own laundry so that she never had a reason to go to his room. Pam hadn't been in there in a couple of weeks, and the last time she had been in there, it had looked like a normal teenage boy's bedroom.

This room looked like it belonged to a prisoner or patient it was so plain and empty. Where were all of Calvin's things?

Biting down on her lip, Pam took a seat on her son's bed, staring at a picture of him and the rest of the family on the desk across from the bed. Calvin was beaming, his face so happy. Was that all just a ruse on his part? But it couldn't be… how could Calvin be _faking _that?

She ran her hands over his bed sheets, picking his pillow up. Blinking at the sight case, she picked it up. The CD was blank, not giving any hint as to what it could be. Standing back up, she walked out of the room and to the household's computer. Logging on, she slipped the disk into the drive, feeling her husband come up behind him.

At once her son's face popped up on screen, and she felt herself choke up, her husband's hand squeezing around her shoulder.

The blond gave a small smile at them—the camera. _"Hey mom, dad… I'm guessing you found this… or you might be the police having checked my room for anything, either way…" _The police? Pam wanted to close her eyes at what that meant, but she couldn't bring herself to do so. _"I'm going to speak as if I'm speaking to my mother and father, so if it's the police, could you please at least let them see this if they want to? They didn't do anything wrong. They don't deserve to be punished for what I did."_

Pam shakily covered her mouth. _"Anyway, this is my own personal goodbye. Andre and I made another tape where we say a lot of things, but I wanted something purely for the both of you. Andre doesn't know about this but I don't think he'd mind even if he did." _The blond swallowed tightly on camera, glancing down.

_"I don't… I don't want either of you to _blame _yourselves, okay? This… what Andre and I have done has nothing to do with either of you. It has everything to do with everything else, but I love both of you, okay?" _She felt Steve slowly lower himself into a chair next to her, and she grabbed his hand, squeezing.

_"This was something I had to do though. All my life, I felt this… I've been depressed for as long as I can remember and I never knew why. The only time I wasn't was when I was hanging out with Andre, and that's because he's like me. We have the same thoughts, the same ideas… we're the same, and do you know how rare it is to find a friend like that? Its fucking _rare_." _

"Depressed?" Pam swallowed tightly, not really taking that word in. Not understanding what it meant. "Calvin was… depressed?"

_"The two of us clicked right away when we first met. Somehow we just… knew that we were meant to do this with each other, and I don't feel guilty. If anything I am more sure than ever that what we're about to do was the right thing to do for both Andre and I."_

"How was this the right thing?" Steve asked, staring at the image of his son on the computer screen, knowing that he wouldn't be getting an answer.

_"I don't blame you if you hate me. You can burn my pictures, do whatever you want to my things, just don't blame yourselves okay? You both were two of the only good things in my life. You were _brilliant _parents and I couldn't have asked for better." _Calvin tilted his head slightly, staring into the camera lens on the video.

"_It's not your fault your son was a psycho—and I know I am one. I won't deny it, but I did this for you and for everybody else in the world. Someone needed to give _humanity _a wakeup call. Andre and I… we just decided to take it upon ourselves. It's nobody's fault except ours, okay?" _

"Not okay, Calvin…"

"_I love you both… goodbye."_

The video ends, and Pam and Steve only felt more hurt and confused than before they had watched it.


End file.
